It had been a weary day for the Baron Francois de Nouart; he had not
even been able to have recourse to his usual stimulant, so impressed
was he with the necessity of keeping every faculty upon the alert in
the trying position in which he found himself. That this Saxon regiment
of all others should have been ordered to Assais was a stroke of
terrible ill luck! Not until Gervais reported to him that all was quiet
in the castle for the night did he venture to seat himself comfortably
at the table in his room with the brandy-flask at his elbow. And even
then five minutes had scarcely elapsed when a slight noise causing him
to turn his head, he plainly saw through the open window the three
officers on the moonlit lawn, and that one of them was the man whom he
so dreaded, Count Styrum. He started up and closed the hangings
instantly, hearing distinctly as he did so Kurt's words, "Let us turn
round; the Baron may else suppose that we wish to spy upon him." Then
through a chink in the curtains he watched the three men disappear
among the bushes, his heart beating violently the while from fear of
detection. After watching some minutes longer he crept softly to
Gervais's room, and having received the steward's assurance that the
young Uhlan officer with his two friends had returned from the garden,
and that all three were now locked in their rooms, he made a stealthy
round of the castle. All was quiet, and he once more returned to his
room to seek the forgetfulness that he so craved.
But the poor man had scarcely drained a few glasses of his favourite
beverage when he was once more disturbed, this time by a low tap upon
the window, which he had closed. Could it be a belated officer? Hardly;
he would not announce his presence thus. It must be some friend, who
for certain reasons did not dare to seek an entrance to the castle more
boldly.
Again the knocking came, quicker and more impatient; with uncertain
steps the Baron went to the window, and, as he looked through the
curtains, uttered an involuntary exclamation of horror, "Count Repuin!"
and in an instant the curtains were drawn aside and the window opened.
"Are you mad, Count? Do you not know that the castle swarms with
Germans?" he whispered, in dismay.
"Then give me your hand and help me to get in at this cursed window,"
whispered Repuin, who stood without in the disguise of a peasant.
"Quick! Am I to stay here until the guard discovers me?"
"I implore you to fly, Count. You will ruin both yourself and me; we
shall be shot if you are found in the castle."
"I will not be found. Do as I tell you, and give me your hand!"
The Baron had no choice but to obey. He extended his hand to the Count,
who seized it, and with but little difficulty clambered in at the
window, which was but a few feet from the ground.
Scarcely had he closed it and drawn the curtains behind him when he
turned with a look of scorn to the Baron, "What a coward you are,
Sorr!" he said; "your hand trembles like a woman's. Shame on you!
Why, I do believe the fellow is drunk again. There stands the empty
brandy-bottle. I wonder whether there is enough sense left in your
drugged brain to make it worth while to talk reason to you."
Repuin's insulting words made no impression on Sorr; he was too well
used to such from the Russian. But the fright that the Count's visit
caused him, and the sense of the danger with which it threatened him,
helped to sober him. He drank several glasses of cold water, and then
bathed his head and face, after which he was sufficiently himself to
turn to the Count and say, "What evil star brought you to Assais? Are
you resolved upon my ruin?"
"Bah! what is your ruin to me!" the Count rejoined, contemptuously.
"You run no greater danger than I do. Are you sufficiently collected
now to understand me?"
"Yes; what do you want?"
"I wish to convince myself by personal information how matters stand
here in Assais; there is no confidence to be placed in the reports
circulating everywhere; these French make mountains out of mole-hills.
You must give me exact intelligence with regard to the enemy."
"How am I to do that? Do you suppose that Count Schlichting makes me
his confidant?"
"Ah, Colonel Schlichting is here, then?"
"Yes; with his whole regiment, and a squadron of Prussian Uhlans."
"Hm! They are too many for us as yet, then,--we must wait a few days.
Is Count Styrum here? I suppose so from your disguise; you look like a
scarecrow."
"Yes, he is here, and also Arno von Hohenwald."
"Baron Arno, my rival with your lovely wife. Let him look to himself!"
"What can you do? The Germans are too strong for you."
"Just at present they are, but in a few days we shall outnumber them;
victory has made them over-bold; they are venturing too far northwest,
and they imagine that they have to do only with some scattering bands
of franctireurs. I have learned enough for to-day, but you must
contrive to keep me informed of all that is going on here. For a
messenger you must employ the village maire, Fournier; his boy Louis
was shot a few days ago by some of these very Germans, and the man is
thirsting for revenge; he will do all and venture all to bring
destruction upon these men."
"But they have placed their sentinels so that it will be impossible to
elude them, and, besides, how could anything of importance reach my
ears?"
"Leave the eluding of the sentinels to Fournier, and for important
information we must depend upon Gervais; let him listen well. These
officers can have no idea that he understands German perfectly?"
"Not the least; the colonel always speaks to him in execrable French."
"Then let him be constantly on the watch for news, and let me hear it
instantly through the maire. May I rely upon you?"
"You are playing a dangerous game, Count! We shall be discovered; and
if we are, we are lost, for Count Schlichting knows no mercy."
"Then none shall be shown him."
"He will need none. I implore you, Count, to moderate your zeal; you
will only plunge into ruin if you attempt to attack an enemy that so
outnumbers you. We, the maire and I, shall both be shot if we are
suspected of holding any communication with you."
The Count gazed sternly at Sorr. For a moment he seemed to bethink
himself; then he said, laying a sharp stress upon each word, "I am
almost tempted to believe you capable of playing the traitor, Herr von
Sorr. I would not advise you to contemplate such a course; one step in
that direction and Count Schlichting shall learn by a letter from me
whom your clumsy disguise conceals. Remember you are closely watched.
If you are true to me you shall have your reward; but if you are a
traitor, by Heaven! you shall meet a traitor's death. If you should
escape a German bullet, a French one shall find its way to your heart.
Now you know where you stand. One more piece of advice: for God's sake
avoid that cursed brandy-flask for the next week at least. Come, be a
man, Sorr; promise me that you will not drink a drop for the next eight
days."
Sorr promised, and Repuin took his departure, leaving, as he had come,
by the window. Sorr closed it softly behind him and stood at it for a
long while, dreading to hear a shot in the shrubbery, but all remained
quiet.